The Morris County chronicle. [volume] (Morristown, N.J.) 1877-1915, 1887-01-29

stop and look hafd at the small wh1Ie
face resting on old Sandy's shoulder.
She took q step nearer to him, then
stopped and gasped:
is he asleeps' Sandy asked, very
softly.
Lay him down in the bed, she an
swered in a strange, quick way that
caused Sandy to obey without question
ing. The Midge did not object. Yes, he
was asleep. Dreamlessly, painlessly and
forever. i reckon Jim sorter pines for
him." said old Sandy quietly, when
there was no longer any room to hope
that the AIidge would ever wake up
again, and expect it's best SO. This
/ world was too much for him. It came
back to him later on, that when he had
Atood in the broad sunbeam beneath the
sird cages, how the Nudge had clutched
y him convulsively. IF he went then, !"
he said to the woman who could only
kneel and moan in her impotent sorrow
and remorse, he went with the sun
shining on him and the birds singing
to him same as if he was out under the
country skies. / like to think it was
SO. ["
Poverty is a hard taskmaster. Old
Sandy was back in the ranks a very little
while later, and it was only when he felt
the northeast wind cutting through him
like a knife that he remembered how he
had left the Midge wrapped up in his
only coat.
Old Sandy was not on duty the next
day. A substitute had to be found to
carry his boards, and the messenger that
brought the news of his sickness to the
store brought also request for the van
guard of the sandwich men to come to
him that night as soon as he could. When
he did goit was to find old Sandy flushed
with fever and in state of restlessness
that boded no good.
You'll have to goin my stead, Bony, y
he said, as soon as his friend had drawn
the only chair in the room close up to the
side eof his iron lounge. I'D rather have
gone myself, for promised Jim to look
after them and wanted to see that they
put the Nudge away in good style.
None of your pauper doings for Jim's
boy" He raised up on one elbow, ran
his hand under his pillow and brought
out an excessively old pocketbook. Its
all in there I've been savin' up for
nearly year now. 1 didn't want to
tread too close on Jim's heels, same as I
done when we sandwiched together on
the street. I was going to ask her to
marry me when the year was good out.
That would a-been about the best way of
keepin my promise to Jim. think he'd
| a-said OK don't you, Bony? / was
plannin' to furnish room for her real
well, with bureau and washstand
| Give priced no end of 'em) and lot of
woman's GIN cracks on the mantelpiece.
But | reckon that games about up. I
think she's got her head set different
way. The Midge's gone home to Jim,
and shouldn't wonder if was in for
the pneumony; feels mighty like it in
K my side. ThEt's the reason can't 90
myself, Bony. Ireckon it come of for
gettin my coat. Iwant you to take that
money to her, Bony, and tell her I sent
it for the Midge's buryin'. Tell her to
have it done decent, carriage and all.
Decent's the word, Bony. 1 don't want
her to have no excuse for taking help
from anybody that amt got a right to
offer it. It would sorter hurt me to
think that Jim's boy had any but honest
money spent on him, dead or alive.
Maybe there'll be enough for bouquet,
too. You'll come and tell me how it
goes off, won't you, Bony?"
Bony promised that he would, but
when he came back the next night to tell
old Sandy how decorously the Nudge had
been put away in a small black coffin,
with wreath of immortelles lying at its
head, and the coffin on the front seat of
a carriage with himself and Jim's wife
ON the back seat, everything decent and
paid for with honest money, old Sandy
was past taking any interest in it, for he,
too, had gone to swell the caravan in
Vulnerable and to give Jim an account
of his stewardship. -Jeannette R. Wal
worth in Kansas City Times.